


12x13

by flyy0ufools



Series: Wincest Codas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 19:59:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10394940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyy0ufools/pseuds/flyy0ufools
Summary: When Mary tells Sam and Dean that she's been working with the British Men of Letters, neither of the boys takes the news well.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [12x13](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10799055) by [CompulsiveShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompulsiveShipper/pseuds/CompulsiveShipper)



> ¡Gracias!  
> ❤❤❤

Dean listened to their mother provide excuse after excuse of why she’d decided to work with the British Men of Letters. He was pacing back and forth but making sure to keep a close eye on Sam. Five minutes in, though, he knew that whatever bullshit their mother was feeding them, he could not let Sam listen to it any longer. Hell, _he_ couldn’t listen to it any longer.

Mary was still talking when Dean interrupted her.

“Get out.” He said it quietly, but the anger in his words seemed to reverberate throughout the room. He was looking at Sam’s head hanging down, expression hidden behind his hair. But Dean didn’t need to see his face to know what Sam was thinking, was feeling.

“What?” Mary asked, eyebrows rising in shock and maybe a bit of anger.

“I said,” Dean repeated, finally looking up at his mother, “get out of our home.”

“Dean! You can’t talk—”

“What? I can’t talk to you like that? Why? Because you’re our mother? _Because you know better?!_ ” Dean snapped at her. “Fuck that, _mom_. You do remember that they shot, kidnapped, and _tortured_ Sam?!” Dean was yelling at this point. “I mean, they tried to kill us too, but I could live with that. Hell, I’ve made allies from people who have done that. But what they did to Sam…that is not your place, that is not your _choice_ to forgive them for!” Dean paused, his voice low again but utterly ferocious. “So like I said. Get. Out.”

Mary stood there frozen, mouth hanging slightly open.

“Sam…” she said after a few moments, looking at him like she was going to plead her case. Dean was about to stop her again but Sam got there first.

“You heard my brother,” Sam said, finally looking up and straight at Mary. “Get out.”

Sam stood up so abruptly from the table that his chair was knocked over. His face was red with anger and his eyes were wet with tears that Dean imagined were only being held back by his fury. As Sam walked away down the hall towards the bedrooms, he called back over his shoulder.

“And leave your key.”

Dean smiled inwardly. His little brother, always the one to take the fall, to blame himself, to downplay all his own sufferings and push them aside, who just ten minutes before could only manage a _We have history with them_ instead of the truth of _They tortured and mind-raped me_ , was putting his foot down.

Mary flinched at Sam’s demand, then looked at Dean, searching his face for even a trace of understanding or compassion. Dean just stared back at her, a hardness in his eyes that he hadn’t felt for what seemed like ages. He didn’t move, didn’t look away, just faced his mother, forcing her to realize all the implications of what she’d done. Finally, Mary dropped her head and turned to go.

Dean coughed. “You heard what Sam said.”

Mary turned back and tossed her key on the table. “Dean, I’m sor—“

“No,” Dean cut her off. “You haven’t been here the last 33 years, and especially the last 12, so maybe you don’t understand. You don’t know everything that we’ve been through, everything that _Sam_ has been through. But here’s the thing…that shouldn’t matter. You know what _they_ did six months ago, and that should have been more than enough for you to not only not work with them, but to kick their asses just for thinking that you’d say yes.”

Finally, Mary looked a little ashamed.

“Go,” Dean said then nodded towards the door, indicating that the conversation was over.

~ ~ ~

The moment he heard the metal door clang shut, Dean took off down the hall towards Sam’s room.

“Sammy?” he called, bursting in, not bothering to knock. The sheets were rumpled and the desk light was on, but there was no Sam. Dean backed out and headed further down the hall to the showers.

He heard the steady fall of water and pushed the door open. Sam was sitting on the floor up against the wall in the second shower stall, knees pulled up and face buried in his arms.

“Sammy?” Dean said softly. Sam grunted but didn’t move. Dean figured Sam wouldn’t be moving anytime soon, so he shucked his boots, jeans, jacket, and shirt, and joined Sam under the spray. “She’s gone, Sammy.” He didn’t bother asking if his brother was okay; Dean knew that if he was upset about something like this, Sam would be…well, he didn’t want to think about it how bad Sam would be.

So Dean sat down right next to Sam, shoulder to hip, and wrapped his arms around his brother. The water was almost scalding—Dean never understood why Sam loved such hot showers considering his body temperature was already way above normal—but he didn’t turn it cooler. He ran his hands through Sam’s hair, and Sam eventually lifted his head enough to lay it against Dean’s shoulder. After a few more minutes, Sam spoke, his voice small and broken.

“Why?” That’s all he said, but Dean didn’t need him to elaborate.

“I dunno, Sammy. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Dean kissed Sam’s temple and continued stroking his hair.

The shower was meant to calm Sam down, but the water also helped to hide Dean’s tears born of anger and Sam’s tears born of betrayal. They stayed like that ‘til the water ran cool.


End file.
